


Limerence

by SecretChocolateStash



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretChocolateStash/pseuds/SecretChocolateStash
Summary: Limerence - (n) a state of being infatuated with another person.„You.“ Will pointed at Lucas with his left hand. „You’re cheating on Max.“Lucas came to Hawkins next weekend. And Max was a no-show to the usual Sunday brunch with friends.She showed up a week later.Will was just getting ready to head outside when the doorbell rang. A shiver ran through his body, only partly caused by the soundwaves echoing in the cavernous room. There was only one person who could end up at his doorstep on a Friday evening, unannounced and uninvited. Only one person he ever allowed to.Max.





	1. Limerence

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mature fic. There's gonna be drinking, smoking and plenty of f-bombs flying around, both figuratively and literally speaking.

 

Shit. Punching someone fucking _hurts_.

Will pulled his hand back and gave it a careful shake. Nothing seemed to be broken, at least. Fucking good, too; he needed that hand to paint. He strutted right past Lucas and walked over to the fridge. Better get some ice on this asap.

„What the fuck, man!“ Lucas was still standing at the door, nursing a split lip, looking shocked. But already Will could see the first traces of anger taking over. „Shit! Fuck man!“

„You.“ Will pointed at him with his left hand. „You’re cheating on Max.“

The anger was gone, just like that. To his credit, Lucas didn’t deny. He just sighed and shut the door.

Will watched as he trudged over to the couch and slouched down, his head between his hands. He almost felt sorry for Lucas. Almost. He prowled closer and took a seat on the armchair across from him.

„For how long?“

Lucas groaned.

„How long, Lucas!“

„Three months.“

Will wished he’d not hurt his hand so he could punch him again.

„For fucks sake man!“

He’d known something was wrong when Max had become increasingly more somber every time they’d hang out. He’d known it had to do with Lucas. Hell, he’d had his doubts the very day that Max had landed back in Hawkins, alone, almost a year ago now, once she’d finished the college. She didn’t like her internship anymore, she’d said. She didn’t like the city. She missed home. She and Lucas would be fine.

They weren’t fine.

And still he’d expected better from his friend.

„You need to tell her.“

„Shit.“

„Lucas!“

„I know man, alright? You think I don’t know that?“

Will pressed his lips together. He wasn’t gonna let this go. And Lucas knew that, too. Will watched as he sighed and rubbed his eyes, his motions slow; his hands were shaking.

„I just... I don’t know how to do it, I guess. We’ve been together forever... How do you deal with this shit after being together for nine years?“

„How do you cheat on someone you’ve been together with for nine years?“

Lucas flinched. „You can’t pin this all on me man! _She_ was the one who left!“

„Dont-!“ Will forced the flaring rage down as best as he could.“ _Don’t_ even go there. Don’t you dare. She’s been on her own too, you know. She didn’t cheat.“

Lucas pulled a breath and when he opened his eyes again, they were glistening.

Good. Fucking good. At least some remorse.

„You need to end this.“

„What do you want me to do man? It’s not that simple.“

„Yes it is. Break up with her. Or break up with Max.“

Lucas looked scared now. Hell, he’d never been a coward, but he sure looked like one now.

„I don’t want to hurt her.“

„Which one?“

A deep breath, a lowered head. „Max.“

Wills heart imploded and exploded at the same time. So that was his choice.

„You still need to do it.“

„I know.“

„Soon.“

„I know.“

„And you need to be honest with her about this.“

Lucas raised his head again, looking wary. „What do you mean?“

„I mean you’re gonna tell her the whole thing.“

His friend looked at him like he was a stranger.

„You can’t be serious.“

„I am. And I need you to promise me you’ll do it.“

„Or what, man?“

„Or I’ll tell her myself.“

They stared at each other, defiant, for a long time, and Will could pinpoint the exact moment that Lucas was beginning to wonder. He’d known this would come.

„I know you and Max are friends, but... fuck, man, I thought you were my friend first.“

Now it was Wills turn to draw in a breath and brace himself. „I am.“

„And what is this then?“

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have punched him.

 

* * *

 

Will pushed the bag of ice firmer against his cheek. There was already a bruise forming on his cheekbone, under his left eye. He knew. He’d checked.

Well, he guessed he deserved it.

Lucas was pacing, watching him like a hawk. He halted from time to time, as if to say something, but  he never did and just resumed his pacing. After a long while he finally stopped for good and came to stand before him.

„This... this is even now.“ He growled, pointing between the two of them.

Will nodded. Damn, he’s head hurt. „Sounds fair.“

„And we won’t talk about this. Like, ever again.“

 „Okay.“

Will gulped. He needed to know.

„Are we good?“

The silence was deafening and Lucas stared him down. A frown. A deep sigh. But then his face cracked into a small smile.

„You up for a beer?“

Will let the ice pack fall and laughed out loud. „Sure, why not.“

„Come on then.“

They were almost out the door when Lucas turned back to him, hesitant. „So... you wanna meet her?“

Did he?

Will smiled. „Yeah, sure man.“

Lucas chuckled in relief as the door fell closed behind them.

 

* * *

 

Lucas came to Hawkins next weekend. And Max was a no-show to the usual Sunday brunch with friends.

 

* * *

 

She showed up a week later.

Will was just getting ready to head outside when the doorbell rang. A shiver ran through his body, only partly caused by the soundwaves echoing in the cavernous room. There was only one person who could end up at his doorstep on a Friday evening, unannounced and uninvited. Only one person he ever allowed to.

Max.

He knew it before he even opened the door. Knew _why_ she was there before he even opened the door. His heart went wild and he needed to take a moment to calm his breathing. He rested his head against the cold metal door; it didn’t help. She was right there. On the other side of it. Suddenly the thought was overwhelming and he wringed the door open.

Max.

Standing there in her ragged jeans and her signature sneakers. Her hair, as usual, a mess of wild, red curls, surrounding her like a halo. Looking all broken and unhinged and so insanely beautiful.

Always so beautiful.

Her eyes were downcast.

„You busy?“

Will smiled and stepped aside. „Come in.“

Her face morphed into a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes and she strolled past him, close enough for him to feel her body heat. Close enough for him to catch her scent. Close enough, that if he’d just stretch out his arm, he could pull her to him.

He swallowed and shut the door.

She didn’t bother to take off her shoes before she slumped down on the sofa in the center of the loft. She never did. The familiarity of this tugged at his heart. He slowly made his way over, coming to a stop a couple of steps away. Waiting. Until she was ready.

Max wasn’t looking at him and he knew what it meant. She was afraid she’d cry. His heart sank and he wished he could somehow take this away from her. But she didn’t function that way. She needed time. And space.

So he walked away, towards the kitchen area.

„And what are we drinking today?“ He called back over his shoulder. There was no answer, but when he turned, there was a bottle of tequila on his coffee table that hadn’t been there before. He couldn’t keep back a smirk; she wanted to get completely wasted then.

He fished out the glasses and prepared the lemon and salt and by the time he was finished, she was already there, sitting behind the counter, staring at the bottle in front of her. Staring at nothing. Staring at everything. But not him. Not yet.

It took her two shots before she was ready.

The blue eyes snapped to his and he died just a little bit more inside. He would never get enough of this. Of her looking at him.

„You know.“ She blurted out. Not accusing. Not asking. Just stating a fact.

He nodded. „Do you want to talk about it?“

She sook her head before he had even finished the question. „Not really.“

„Okay.“

„You knew we were falling apart anyway.“

So she did want to talk about it. But he’d known that, too.

„Yes.“

She chugged down another shot and he watched with envy as her lips hugged the lemon.

„Are you okay?“

She would hate the question, but he needed to ask her anyway. Because that’s what friends do.

Max grimaced. „I’m fine. Just pissed, I guess. That he didn’t end it sooner. Before... you know.“

He knew. Before Lucas had found another girl. So he’d had the guts to tell her. Good.

„Yeah, I know.“

Max looked down at her hands, all of a sudden uncomfortable. Vulnerable. „Have you seen her?“

„Max...“

She jerked her head up and rolled her eyes at him. „Come on Byers, cut the shit! Have you seen her?“

„Yes.“

„Good.“ She clenched her teeth together. „Is she beautiful?“

_Yes._

„No.“

Max didn’t even look at him. „You’re lying.“

Will sighed. „Yes.“

„Yes you’re lying or yes she’s beautiful.“

„Both.“

„Asshole.“ Her voice sounded so small.

_Not as beautiful as you._

Will threw back his shot and poured them both another one.

 

* * *

 

„You want another?“

She nodded, a small smile on her lips and Will grabbed her glass, making his way to the kitchen counter to fill it up.

Max was blissfully buzzed.

The dull ache in her chest that had refused to let go for the whole week, hell, probably even longer, was finally starting to give and she could _breathe_ again. Just breathe. In and out. In and out. In. And out. It was liberating.

Will. Will was a good friend. She’d missed him this past week. She should’ve come sooner. Will was always here. Always up for a drink or two. Or three, for that matter.

Always a soothing balm to the wounds left on her soul by whatever was currently going on in her life.

But she’d been too proud to risk breaking down in front of him.

Sure, her and Lucas had been drifting apart for some time now, but the finality of the breakup still hurt like a bitch. And it sure as hell didn’t help that there was an actual bitch, in the form of another woman, in the picture.

Shit.

Will had said she was beautiful,  so she probably was. He was an artist, for fucks sake. His taste was impeccable.

Max hated that he found her beautiful.

Breathe, Max, breathe.

Let it go.

It’s not like she loved Lucas anymore anyway. Not like that, at least. Not like she used to. The last few times she’d seen him had felt like tearing a scab off from an already healing cut.

And even though she would’ve loved to say she didn’t remember when was the last time they had slept together, she did; It was twenty two weeks and six days ago.

Sometimes it sucked to be numerically inclined.

Damn it. Why was she still getting stuck on it? She had wanted to just get wasted today and leave the whole thing behind her, because shit, she didn’t _linger_.

The seat moved under her; Will was back.

Max grabbed the glass he held out and sank down further into the huge couch, letting her hand run over the smooth teal velvet. She had a lowkey fetish for the thing.

Wills gaze lazily trailed her hand, his eyes squinted.

Maybe her fetish wasn’t as lowkey as she’d thought.

„I bet all the girls you bring home just love this couch.“ She teased, bringing her hand back to her glass.

Will threw his head back and laughed.

Max wasn’t fooled; she could see a small blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. It was always funny to see him bashful, for he was really an incurable flirt. Had been since tenth grade, once he’d slicked back his hair, donned a leather jacket and found his confidence.

But that was with girls he was interested in. To his friends he was still the same old Will.  

„I can’t take that bet.“ He cocked his eyebrow, all unabashed again and as smooth as the damned couch they were sitting on and now it was Max’s turn to laugh.

Not blush, though. No. If there was any redness on her cheeks it was from all the alcohol she’d consumed.

„Who’s the latest one anyway?“ Max asked without missing the beat. She’d deliberately kept herself away from the gossip mill for the past week; she had no illusions about what the main topic was.

Nine fucking years. People had been expecting wedding bells, not a break up.

She swallowed and gulped down half of her drink at once.

„Easy there, girl.“ Will sounded worried. It was funny.

„Why?“ Her lips strecthed into a grin. „You afraid I’m gonna throw up on your precious couch?“ A stray though came to her and she turned to look at Will. „Is that why you never let me sleep here when I crash over?“

Will had this annoying habbit of taking the couch himself and insisting she'd have the bedroom. At first she’d thought it was just him being polite; but ever since that one time when she’d been so wasted she’d already fallen asleep on the sofa, and Will had taken her to the bedroom anyway, she decided there was something off about it.

She still remembered. Like it had been yesterday, not exactly thirteen weeks ago.

Remembered her surprise, when she woke to the feel of his arms, just as he lifted her up, bridal style. Too dazed to ask him to put her down, she’d let him carry her all the way to the bed, where he fucking tucked her in and turned the lights down low, before he’d retreated back to the main living area. She wasn’t exactly the shortest and skinniest girl around; she hadn’t expected him to be strong enough.

She also hadn’t expected to suddenly understand.

Why so many girls fell at his feet the way they did.

Max downed the rest of her drink.

 

* * *

 

Will swallowed past the dryness in his throat. Shit. He’d been drinking for two hours, how could it be dry?

Max.

It had always been so easy with her. To just hang out. With Lucas, Mike and El away and Dustin busy with his family, they’d been doing this a lot during the past year.

But there’d always been the safety screen of her being Lucas’s girl before.

And Will was a good friend.

Max and that fucking couch.

She had no idea how she looked against the backdrop of it. The copper of her hair, her alabaster skin, her eyes, blue like a fresh water spring; the artist in him revelled at the sight.

The man in him revelled in it even more.

That was one of the several reasons he never let her sleep there. But he couldn’t tell her this.

He also couldn’t bring himself to tell her this was his fucking couch.

Literally.

He never took his dates to his bedroom. Never. He always fucked them on the couch. Hell, that’s why he’d bought the monster. Or in the shower. In the kitchen, occasionally. But never the bedroom. That was private.

„Tell me you’ve changed the sheets since your last date.“ She’d always joke when going to bed.

„Of course.“ Was his evergreen answer.

Max didn’t know. That she was the only woman who’d ever really slept in his bed.

She didn’t know. That he wouldn’t change the sheets for days afterwards. Not until the last traces of her scent were hopelessly lost and he’d have to wait until she decided to stay over again.

His dates never stayed the night.

Max was the only one who ever got to stay the night. But she didn’t know that either.

And his last date?

Shit.

He hadn’t been on any for weeks now.

He would have been on one today.

But then she’d shown up on his doorstep and the rest could go fuck themselves. As always.

One more thing he couldn’t share.

„Smoke?“ he asked instead.

Max's smile looked like a sin.

 

 

 


	2. Nescience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nescience - (n) Absence of knowledge or awareness; ignorance.

Max didn’t smoke.

Except for when she was at Will’s place.

Everything was different at his place. She was different.

There was something natural here about climbing out the window, onto the rusty old fire escape, and lighting up a cigarette.

And still they only did it when they drank. Never, when she was over for business.

Which happened, too, since she had accepted his offer to handle his accounting and other paperwork for him nine months ago. She’d needed the work and he needed help.

She’d already had several other clients by then anyway, a few small businesses who didn’t want to hire a full time accountant; with Will’s gig added to them, she could finally afford to quit her crappy last resort waitress job she loathed.

And although she’d had her doubts about weather or not this would make things awkward between them, it didn’t; Will was still the same and so was their friendship. If anything, it had just thrown them together more.

Max pulled her lungs full and watched, transfixed, as the transluscent smoke from the glowing end of her ciggie spiraled into the air, distorting her view, wrapping everything in it’s white tendrils.

She exhaled, blowing out a lungful, breaking the beautiful display in front of her and bringing the cigarette back to her lips.

They had known Will was doing okay with his artists career, having had his break through three of years ago, when he was only twenty and still in art school. His abstract, The Tunnels, had caused quite a furor and sold for a decent money later on. The Party had laughed their asses off and then gotten smashed in it’s honor.

He’d sold more of his works since then, too; Max had never thought about for how much, until she had gotten an overview of his financies once she'd accepted the job.

Well, damn.

Will was doing mighty fine. No wonder he needed an accountant.

She no longer wondered how he could afford the spacious loft on the top floor of an old renovated factory; she rather wondered why he hadn’t bought anything more fancy. But then again, this place had Will written all over it and the tall, large windows made it perfect for doubling as a studio.

And Max was a professional, so she kept the information and her opinions to herself.

She blew out another lungful, already feeling the effects of the nicotine, which, tied to the buzz from the alcohol, made her whole world swim. She was a lightweight when it came to smoking.

Will shifted, his leg brushing against hers. The rickety platform was just big enough for both of them to sit down, facing each other, with their legs battling for room to be stretched out.

She loved it out here.

It felt a little like she was floating high up in the air. Especially when the wind picked up and it got so dark outside, she could pretend she couldn’t see the railings; only the open skies behind it.

Tonight it was overcast, the low massive clouds suffocative and overbearing.

She turned back to Will; he was watching her through his eyelashes. It wasn’t the first time this evening she’d caught him, but suddenly she was self conscious.

Last thing she needed was for him to worry she was not handling this break up shit well. Because fuck, she was; even if it meant increased levels of alcohol consumption. She was allowed at least this much, wasn’t she?

Will lowered his gaze and broke the silence.

„You owe me ten bucks by the way.“

Max groaned.

„Again? Which one did I lose this time?“

„Johnson and Kelly. He _was_ the one who knocked her up. They moved in together last week.“

„Damn it!“ She cursed. „I thought the girl had standards.“

Will laughed.

„What’s wrong with Johnson?“

„What’s wrong with Johnson?“ She asked, exasparated. „He’s a fucking dick. He cheated twice on his last girlfriend.“

„So?“ Will deadpanned. „Maybe he won’t this time. Maybe Kelly is the one for him.“

„ _Bullshit._ “ Max drawled out. „That shit only happens in Disney movies.“

_Or I was never the one for Lucas._

Damn it, was she bitter?

„You have issues you know that?“ Will said after a beat.

Yes, definitely bitter.

„Yeah, if by issues you mean _brains_.“

She pulled the smoke into her lungs and blew it out after a couple of seconds. And fuck, how did Will always guess these things right anyway?

„How do you always know?“

Will grinned and took another pull, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

„Magic.“

Max kicked his leg for being a pompous prick. He only laughed louder.

 

* * *

 

Max was doing better, Will decided.

She smiled more. She laughed. Even if she still talked less than she had before.

It had been three weeks now since her and Lucas’s breakup.

And this was the third weekend she had sought him out; he’d been keeping his schedule free since that first time two weeks ago.

The heavy dark clouds behind her made her eyes look stormy grey today. It was mesmerizing to watch; this was quickly becoming his second favorite view of her out here.  

The first? Max during a sunset.

Fucking hell.

Max _was_ sunset.

She’d melded into the burst of colors in the sky like she belonged there, her hair, catching the suns last rays, lighting up even brighter than the edges of the clouds low down over the horizon.

He’d painted sunsets for weeks afterwards, unable to get it out of his system.

Max extinguished her cigarette and blew out the last of the smoke. Will sighed. Smoking on this stupid old fire escape with her was his guilty little pleasure; they’d sit there, their legs half entangled due to the constricted space, and he’d get to stare at her shamelessely as she was too busy staring at the sky.

Max loved the skies, he knew.

But tonight she was restless and her eyes roamed.

Will wasn’t sure why and it troubled him. Usually he was able to read her. Not now, though.

Must’ve been all of that whiskey. He never could quite control his intake of it, so he was more drunk by now than he cared to admit.

But Max had craved for whiskey, and, damn it, it suited her, the amber liquid and the ice cubes swirling around in the thick bottomed glass, a perfect combination of scorching hot and fucking cold; even it’s bitter smell only managed to compliment her musky scent.

And so here he was. Drunk on whiskey.

Drunk on her.

Fuck.

Evenings with her were quickly becoming an addiction he wasn’t sure he was ever gonna be strong enough to fight. Even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

He was staring again.

But it didn’t matter; Max was already hoisting herself up, her locks brushing against his bare arm that was propped up on his knee and shit, if he didn’t just want to wrap his hand into the fiery mess and bring it to his face so he could bury his nose in it. His fingers twitched.

Max manouvered herself to sit on to the window sill so she could swing her legs inside, and then she was out of his reach, walking away towards the bathroom, absentmindedly gathering her hair up into a ponytail and showing off the delicate nape of her neck before letting it all cascade down again.

Will swallowed, hard, before putting out his cigarette and stumbling back inside also.

She had no idea. Of the effect she had on him.

He filled their glasses up with another round of drinks before throwing himself onto the couch. To wait for her return, like a junkie, already missing the next hit even though he just had one. He grabbed one of the pillows made from the same soft smooth fabric Max loved so much and pressed his cheek into it.

Maybe he should get a velvet tux or something, was his last drunken thought before he passed out.

 

* * *

 

Max watched the sleeping boy in front of her and smirked. Will never had been able to hold his liquor as well as she did. Ever since the Party had started their escapades with alcohol in high school.

Even though he wasn’t the same slight boy anymore she remembered from back then.

He’d grown. Filled out. Sharpened up.

She felt a temptation to run her hand over the stubble shading his jaw, just to see how it felt. Lucas had always been so neat with his shaving, she’d never touched one.

Will snuggled closer to the pillow and she halted, startled.

Shit. What was she doing? She hadn’t realized she was stretching her hand out.

 _Way to be a complete creep, Mayfield_.

Max scoffed at herself and straightened back up again. Damn it. The whiskey was obviously getting to her, too.

Time to stop right there.

She sighed, noticing the two filled up glasses sitting on the coffee table. Grabbing them, she made her way over to the kitchen and emptied their contents into a sink.

And what the hell was she doing here anyway, in general? She’d been hogging Will’s weekends for three weeks in a row now; was it fair of her? There had to be so much better things he could do with his time than babysit a stupid friend who couldn’t get her shit together.

But Will had always been too nice. And she supposed she was... fragile. For now. Of course he wouldn’t send her away.

Damn it.

She was being a shitty friend.

Max rinsed out the glasses and put them away before she stalked to the bedroom. The white crisp sheets looked so inviting that for a moment she wavered; she always slept so well here.

No, she’d already deicided. She’d go home tonight. And try to leave Will alone for a while. She could handle this on her own. No need to drag others down, too.

She clenched her jaw and yanked the blanket off the bed, walking back out into the living room and throwing it over the sleeping form on the couch.

„See you later, Byers.“

 

* * *

 

When Will woke up on the Saturday morning, she wasn’t there.

 

* * *

 

Next Friday it was almost midnight when he finally accepted the fact that she wasn’t coming. He grabbed a couple of beers and painted the night away.

 

* * *

 

When she wasn’t there by ten o’clock on Saturday, he sighed heavily and pulled on his jacket; he might as well go and check out the pub. He hadn’t been there for over a month now.

And for the first time in months, he brought home a girl.

It didn’t distract him as well as it had used to; when the morning came, he still missed her.

 

* * *

 

Max never told him. That she was there that Saturday. That she’d lasted until midnight, and then had still, against her better judgement, made her way over.

He hadn’t been home.

And, the clingy drunkard that she was, she’d stuck around for a while, sitting on the swings at the kids playground nearby.

Until he came.

With a girl.

Will never saw her.

And when they met at Dustin’s the next day, she didn’t tell.

Back in the days she would’ve teased the shit out of him.

And now she couldn’t tell.

Fuck if this made any sense.

 

* * *

 

When next Friday rolled around, Max asked.

She fucking _asked_.

If he was gonna be free in the evening.

Will stared at her like she’d grown two heads. Not that she saw; her nose was buried into the paperwork in front of her. He’d made sure she had business around his place this week.

But she never asked.

It was their thing. And it’s not like she needed to. Not really.

Of course, she didn't know that.

But she obviously did know she was being funny, because despite her efforts to look nonchalant, her cheeks were getting flushed.

Max was _embarrassed_.

Fuck.

„Yeah I’m free. Why are you asking?“

Max shrugged, her eyes glued to the calculator.

„Just wondered if I can come hang out.“

Will stared. He was missing something here.

„No, not that.“

Max stilled, her expression suddenly closed off.

It took him a moment to filter what he’d said.

„No, I mean, sure you can come hang out.“

Her face softened again, the corners of her mouth twitching.

„I meant why are you _asking_?“

And now she was all flustered again. She hid it behind annoyance as she rolled her eyes at him.

„Because it’s a decent thing to do?“

He was _definitely_ missing something here. But Max didn’t like to be pushed, and he played by her rules.

„Since when are you decent?“ He teased instead.

„Shut up Byers.“ And there she was. The good old Max. „I can still kick your butt you know.“

Will only laughed.

 

 


End file.
